Jasper Stare Twilight Novels & Stories

Samantha Sonnet, my wife who's also a hospital dean, decides to replace my name with Nicholas Spark, the intern's name on the surgical atlas that I've spent the last three years drafting without my permission. That atlas is then published. I burn the only original draft of the atlas in front of the entire department. Samantha blames me for being brash. "He's just leaving his name there so that he can ensure a smoother project closeout." After dusting the ashes away, I reply, "My academic achievements will always be mine. Since someone else's name is printed on my achievements, that means they are no longer pure." Later at midnight, Samantha hands me a glass of warm milk in an attempt to apologize to me. When I regain consciousness once again, I've already gotten strapped to a surgical table beneath a huge spotlight. I see a scalpel glinting coldly right above me. "You're a man of purity, right?" Samantha murmurs into my ear. "Three people's blood will be coursing through your veins soon enough. You'll be impure soon enough!" At the moment, Samantha is livestreaming an illegal organ removal surgery. As I stare at the camera hovering above my head, I say coldly, "If you've recorded enough evidence, then it's time to turn off the camera! Tell Captain Hardy that I've gotten my hands on the evidence he wants!"

"You're an insensitive Bastard," I say. I want him to say something to do something, but he just leans against the wall staring at me. To my horror, I feel the telltale sign of tears, but I blink it away aggressively. Max walks towards me and cups my face "You've no idea," he says, leaning in. I don't know what I hope for, but I lift my head to face him anyway. We stare at each other for what feels like an eternity when he whispers "Do you think I'm not tired Callista, you should know by now that I am an addict and you are my addiction, I know I should back away, but these days when it comes to you, it seems my body doesn't obey my commands. I close my eyes, and i see you. I breathe, and your scent fills the air. Every day, i crave a taste of you. You everything to me. " His nose caresses my cheek, and he takes a long inhale, and I realise he's breathing in my scent. He then puts his forehead to mine, and his lips brush mine when he says "I'm never going back to how I was before, am I?" When I open my eyes, he's gone.

“I don’t want to be here.”I let out, weakly and tugged my face away from his hand. God! Where had all the oxygen gone to? I was finding it hard to breathe and he kept pressing his body against mine. “You look adorable when you lie.” He held my chin, forcing me to stare at him. “I am sure if I were to wrap your legs around my waist and fuck you against this door, you’d take my cock like a good girl.” He drawled, his cold eyes spearing into my soul. Heat pooled between my legs and I shook my head. **** Forced to marry Alora Ramos, Gael Torres vowed to remain in a loveless marriage with her. He gave her his rules. She wasn’t allowed to feel jealousy or any other possessive feelings towards him. They were in an open marriage where they could do whatever they wanted. But Gael never imagined Alora truly having extra marital affairs. And he definitely never imagined her getting involved with his cousin, the ruthless Don Lorenzo Armani. She had always been the docile little girl who followed him around. And then he realized that he might just end up breaking his own rules. Was it too late to get her back?

"I, Alpha Kai Xander of Blue Crest pack, denounce you, Ariel as my mate," My world came crumbling down my feet as I stare at the man I have spent these recent years of my life, worshipping and loving like he was my god. The man that gave me nothing, but assurance that we will eventually end up together as mates. Was I a joke to him? Did he say all those words to me to get in between my legs? "What are you saying, alpha?" I need someone to wake me up from this nightmare which I so much not want to be reality. "What about the promises you made to me? You told me you would be with me forever. You told me you loved me..." "This is your fate, Ariel. Promises are made to be broken, and you have no right to question my decision. You are nothing, but a stranger that knows nothing about her origin. What were you expecting? Take you as my mate and spend the rest of my life being insulted by people? Never!" As if those words means nothing, as if it won't hurt me, he spills them out, while I stand here staring at him with my mouth agape. Now, that's it. Promises are made to be broken, but I never imagined he'd break his to me. Where do I start from?

After Iris Miller ditches me at the altar for the seventh time just to be with her childhood sweetheart, Aaron Trent, the Millers personally show up on my doorstep so that they can apologize to me properly. "We'll add on another 11 pounds of gold, three buildings in the south-western district, and nine stores located in prime locations of the city center on top of the current list of wedding gifts in order to make it up to you." Before Daniel Miller is done speaking, Iris, who's listening to the conversation from her phone, lets out a light scoff. "As if Jasper deserves all these gifts. Believe me when I say I'll have him eating out of the palm of my hand with just a pebble I randomly pick up on the street. Grandpa, I might as well invest these wedding gifts in Aaron's art gallery." Daniel quickly ends the call before looking at me in embarrassment. Soft mocking laughter rings out around me. Everyone is waiting for me to quietly endure all the humiliation, just like before. But I've already received such compensation six times in the past. I'm no longer interested in them. Heck, I'm no longer interested in Iris as well. After thinking for a moment, I glance at the crowd with a raised brow, where I find myself staring at Taylor Miller, Iris' most hated half-sister due to her illegitimate lineage. "Mr. Miller Senior, you mentioned that whoever I marry will become the future heiress of the Miller family. This promise still stands, right?" It's fine if Iris refuses to marry me. Plenty of women are dying to marry me anyway.

I had 2 weeks left till graduation, then in a few days I'd turn 18, get my wolf and head to warrior training camp what more could a she-wolf want. My life was just about perfect with one very gorgeous exception, Alpha heir Remington. I'd known him my whole life, friends always he said, until he was to return from Alpha Academy, then he wanted me to be his girlfriend, well guess how that turned out. They say a second can change your life, what they don't tell you is that your entire world can explode in less than a minute. My near perfect life shattered just that quickly. Leaving me heartbroken. They don't tell you that your heart can do that, shatter more than once. If love is only an emotion, then how can you physically feel the pain inside your chest, it doesn't make sense, not really. It took a few days to overcome the shock, but I'm a warrior by birthright. I'm headstrong, determined, and have trained my entire life to follow in my father's footsteps. I'm not your normal she-wolf, no, Rochelle Jasper doesn't have aspirations of being a soft, sweet, manipulative she-wolf, I will be a warrior. Though finding your fated mate is rare, I won't be looking for that or a mate at all for that matter, not after what I've already been through. My journey will be tough, physically and emotionally draining but the final reward, will be amazing. Not many get to achieve their childhood dreams, one of mine is already gone but being a warrior that one I'll conquer.

Since my favorite basketball player is hosting a meet-and-greet, I've ordered a VIP seat that comes with the benefit of interacting with the player in advance. When the time comes, I follow a staff member to my designated seat. I'm about to sit down when a man walks over and takes my seat instead. "This is where I can watch the meet-and-greet the best. I shall have this seat, then." I just stare at the man, completely speechless. "Sir, this is my seat. Please get off the chair." What I don't expect is for him to dig out a stack of cash before hurling it at me. "A peasant like you has no right to meet basketball stars! I'm buying this seat from you right now! Take the money and scram!" Seeing that I refuse to leave, the man continues haughtily, "I'm Wilbur Collins, the assistant of Jade Pearson, CEO of Pearson Group! Everyone in this city knows who the Pearsons are! Are you trying to push your luck here?" Jade Pearson? Isn't that the fiancee who my dad has betrothed to me? I pull out my phone and call her right away. "Hey, your assistant has snatched my seat from me in a basketball star's meet-and-greet session like the hooligan he is. You'd better give me a good explanation for this!"

At the Hunting Festival, Cynthia Whitefang flashes a stack of cash and demands that my mate, Simon Fenwick, become her bodyguard. "Just accept it, Layla." Simon flashes his fangs and tells Cynthia to get lost in a rude tone. Our son, Noah Fenwick, who's chronically poisoned by silver, waves his fists angrily as well to chase Cynthia away. But I just stare at the stack of cash quietly. Memories of a conversation I had overheard last week surge into my mind at that moment. That time, Noah was tugging at the hem of Simon's shirt while standing under a tree. "Daddy, can I keep pretending to be poisoned? That way, Mommy will keep giving me money to treat my poison. I wanna buy gifts for Cynthia!" he said coquettishly. Simon had replied dotingly, "Of course! But you must remember to never tell Mommy that I'm not hurt. Only when she's filled with guilt will she love us forever." It turns out that my husband is faking his injury, while my son is faking being poisoned. They've played me like a fiddle the whole time. I, on the other hand, have to risk my life time and again to earn money just to treat their imaginary illness and wounds. To think that all of my earnings are used on pleasing another she-wolf… I raise my head, soon meeting Cynthia's confident gaze. "Okay. You can have him."

The year I graduated from high school, my dad brought home a woman and a child with a rose on my mom's birthday. When the child offered my mom the rose, my mom gladly accepted it, only to end her life after spending her 39th birthday. … When I got married, I told my husband, Alistair Yates, that a rose was enough to end our marriage if he wanted a divorce. Then, he tried to reassure me that our house would not have anything related to roses. … Five years later, during one of the Yates Group's tender, one of our partners had a rose pinned to her chest. When he saw this, Alistair immediately kicked her out of the company and blacklisted her. That day, I realized that marriage could actually be blissful. Yet, six months after that, I completed my new drug research. The entire corridor was full of roses when I came out of the lab. The person who had been kicked out of the company? She was standing beside Alistair with a bright smile. I looked at him coldly, but he casually said, "Maria prepared all these for you. She's your sister and she wants to make amends with you." It took me two seconds to stare at Alistair before I turned to leave. What sister? I never had one. And from today, I no longer need a husband.

Three months since my husband, Julian Moretti, disappeared. I walked into his favorite den, the grief so deep it stole the air from my lungs. I just wanted to breathe him in, to find any trace of him that was left. Then I heard it. A familiar laugh. And the soft moan of a woman. Through a crack in the door, I saw him. My husband, the man "missing" for three months, had his hand tangled in another woman's hair. "Baby, just a little longer," he said. "Soon as I siphon enough cash from the family's books, we're gone. You and me." In his arms was Bianca, from the Rosso family. "What about your wife?" she purred. "Let her play the grieving widow. She's nothing without me anyway." My fists clenched. The world went quiet, my blood turning to ice. The next day, I put the word out to the entire Family. "I'm holding a memorial mass for my husband." At the service, he stormed in, a ghost returned from the grave, roaring that he was alive and there to take back what was his. But I was standing next to his uncle, Dante Moretti, and all I did was stare him down. "Then explain," I said, my voice cutting through the silence. "Explain the woman. Explain the money. Explain your betrayal... to the Family. And to me."